


hey good lookin (whatya got cookin?)

by ficfucker



Series: rhink drabbles, ficlets, & fluff [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: link is more than glad to be over his headache





	hey good lookin (whatya got cookin?)

“Listenin’ to the oldies without me?” Link asks, coming into the kitchen.

 

Rhett is at the stove with a powder blue apron cinched around his waist. Settin’ The Woods on Fire by Hank Williams is playing from one of their wireless speakers. “Figured it’d give you good dreams,” Rhett says. He smiles over his shoulder at Link then goes back to poking at the fried chicken he’s got sizzling in a pan. 

 

Link smiles back, rubs at his eyelid with the heel of his palm. “Dreamt we were swimmin’. At the beach.” 

 

“Told ya. Oldies always give ya good dreams.” 

 

Link goes over to one of the hanging cabinets and gets a mug. He nudges Rhett with his hip and Rhett looks over, realizes Link wants a kiss, and gives him a peck on the lips. 

 

“Headache gone?” Rhett asks. 

 

Link opens the fridge for orange juice and pours himself a cup. “For now. What time is it anyhow? I slept like a brick.” Link had been suffering from migraines lately, some that lasted for days at a time, and Rhett had insisted Link take a nap and see if things improved. Link had only meant to be out for a half hour or so, but with Rhett there in the bedroom with him, with the windows open and blowing warm air past the curtains, he knew he was in for a power nap. 

 

“Couple hours. It’s around 6:30 now.” 

 

“Jeez, I sure was out.” Link sits at their breakfast nook and sips his orange juice. The tang is strong in his groggy mouth and he looks at Rhett. His back is to Link while he cooks. He’s in grey joggers and a red t-shirt, his hair down. He slides a cutting board of diced potatoes into a steaming pot and stirs them and hums along to Hank Williams. 

 

Link finishes off his juice and goes over to Rhett, hugs him from behind with his face between the rise of his shoulder blades, arms around his hips. 

 

Rhett wraps his right hand around Link’s left wrist and rubs him with his thumb. “Whut’s this for? Thought I was gone forever when you woke up an’ I wasn’t there?” 

 

Link kisses a few of the vertebrate that bump up under Rhett’s shirt. “Oh, shut up, big guy. Can’t love on ya without reason?”

 

Rhett chuckles and Link can feel it in his ribcage. “It ain’t illegal, I was just wonderin’ what’s got you so lovey tonight.” 

 

Hank Williams switches over and Chantilly Lace by the Big Bopper comes on. 

 

“Guess the oldies make for good dreams and make me wanna love on ya.” Link giggles and tugs at Rhett, peels him away from the stove and turns him around. “ _ Oh, you sweet thang _ ,” Link quotes. He puts a hand to Rhett’s hip and grips his palm with the other. 

 

Rhett cracks into a smile and starts shimmying along to the music, swishing his hips like this a dance contest in a 50’s diner. “ _ Oh, baby, you knowww whut I like, _ ” Rhett drawls. 

 

Link leans his head back and laughs, and Rhett laughs, too. His eyes crinkle in the corners and Link kisses the side of his face, still dancing circles in the kitchen. 

 

_ that wiggle in the walk / and giggle in the talk / makes the world go round  _

 

“ _ Oh, baby, that’s whut I like _ ,” Rhett sings, pitching his voice deep and southern. He pulls Link close then dips him back, and they’re both laughing again, their shoulders bouncing.

 

Rhett looks so handsome then: neck craned as he laughs, his cheeks rounded with his smile, his hair disheveled and flopping over his eyebrows. Link feels so lucky, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s simple and yet amplified: the joy of dancing like fools in the kitchen, thinking about how handsome and perfect your husband is. 

 

“ _ Pick you up at 8 and don’t be late, but baby, I ain’t got no money, honey, _ ” Rhett keeps singing along, though his voice is chipped with laughter now. 

 

They continue in circles, leading each other with their hands clasped together, and the kitchen smells like warm grease and potatoes. Rhett’s apron sweeps between them like a skirt and he keeps singing while Link bobs his head side to side to the beat. 

 

“ _ Oh, baby, that’s whut I like _ ,” Rhett finishes with the song and he kisses Link on the mouth. They both smile into it. 

 

Straight A’s in Love by Johnny Cash is next in queue. 

 

“‘Nuff foolin’ around, I’m gunna burn this chicken ‘cuz of you,” Rhett teases and he goes back to the stove. 

 

“Callin’ me a distraction?” 

 

“If I am, yer the best distraction that’s happened to me, Neal.” 

 

Link’s heart does somersaults. He goes to the cabinet again to set the table. “Right back atchya, big guy.” 

**Author's Note:**

> been listening to a bunch of "oldies" while doing house work lately & figured it'd be fun to apply that rhett & link, even just a fluffy little drabble 
> 
> don't forget kudos & comments if u liked this fic
> 
> talk to me on tumblr @ficfucker!


End file.
